The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [92]
Kerney closed the files. Clayton had done a thorough job excavating Montoya’s remains. He wondered if praising his son’s good work would be worth the effort. Would Clayton simply respond with his usual cool disdain?
Kerney arrived for his follow-up interview with Helen Pearson curious to see how she’d held up overnight. Her hair was uncombed, her eyes were drained of emotion, and she moved in a distracted, almost awkward way.
“How long will this take?” she asked, her voice thin and troubled.
“Not long, I hope,” Kerney answered, still feeling the headache that had dogged him since waking. He hadn’t taken anything for it. The nagging throb kept his thoughts off Sara, so it served a good purpose.
The living room curtains, open yesterday, were closed, darkening the room. Helen Pearson sat in a chair where shadows hid her face. Kerney turned on a table lamp next to her and she blinked like a startled child caught doing mischief.
“Belinda Louise Nieto,” Kerney said. “Tell me about her.”
Pearson’s mouth tightened, twisted. “I didn’t know her.”
“What do you know about her?” Kerney asked.
“She was just before my time,” Pearson replied.
“And?”
“She’s dead.”
“You can do better than that.”
She thought about her answer, rubbing her lips together as if it would make the words come out. “She was an object lesson to keep the girls in line.”
“Why was that?”
“She booked dates on the side, held back money, met with clients who hadn’t been screened, broke appointments, rejected bookings with men who didn’t appeal to her, demanded additional payment for anything kinky, and sometimes refused to travel.”
“She was murdered for not following the rules,” Kerney said.
Pearson nodded. “The girls were told not to make the same mistakes Belinda did.”
“Who killed her?”
Pearson shifted away from the lamp as if the glare was somehow hazardous. “Everyone figured it had to be Luis Rojas, or someone he sent to do it.”
“Why?”
“Because he was the enforcer.”
“Just for the girls?” Kerney asked.
“And clients who misbehaved.”
“Were you warned about any other object lessons?”
“A girl in Houston, a client in Phoenix. There may be more, I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the life.”
“So, Denver isn’t the only base of operations.”
“No. There’s Phoenix, Houston, and El Paso, and probably a few more cities by now. Sex is a thriving business,” she added sarcastically.
“Albuquerque?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you know a woman named Anna Marie Montoya?” Kerney asked.
“The murdered woman who went missing from here years ago?”
“Yes.”
“I never met her.”
“Did Norvell ever mention her to you?”
“Not that I recall.”
“Tell me about your clientele.”
The request made Pearson angry. “Will knowing who I fucked for a living get you off?”
“I left here yesterday amazed at how you’d turned your life around,” Kerney answered. “I’m still impressed.”
“Sorry,” Pearson said with a flicker of an apologetic smile. “It’s hard to think about all of this. The men I saw were wealthy, well-known celebrities, or prominent people in their home communities. One was a network television journalist, another was a professional basketball player. The list goes on and on. I even saw a city police chief from Texas for a time. Does that surprise you?”
“Not really. Anyone from New Mexico?”
“Just one man Tyler set me up with. That’s how I first came to Santa Fe. I spent three or four weekends with him over a period of about a year. His name was Raymond, but I think that was fictitious.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Anything more than an evening in a hotel room usually happened away from the client’s home turf. That means dinners out and being seen together without worry, a little shopping